


Jealous

by deadinderry



Category: Anthrax (US Band), Metallica
Genre: M/M, because where would we be without jealous lars, kea era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 16:36:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21121901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadinderry/pseuds/deadinderry
Summary: For someone who thought he was, you know, not a complete dumbass, it took Lars Ulrich an awful long time to figure out why he got pissed off at every person, girl or guy, who came within two feet of Kirk Hammett. KEA Era.





	Jealous

**Author's Note:**

> i havent played w lars's pov yet so i figured i would. complete with EVEN MORE INTERNAL MONOLOGUE because THAT'S WHAT WE DO HERE.

For someone who thought he was, you know, not a complete dumbass, it took Lars Ulrich an awful long time to figure out why he got pissed off at every person, girl or guy, who came within two feet of Kirk Hammett. It was different, okay, with the first girl who hung around Kirk for a while, because she was just a bitch. Like, objectively speaking, a bitch. And most of the girls who hung around him—like most of the girls who hung around _all _of them, they didn’t really care about Kirk, they wanted to fuck a guitarist and abscond after giving him crabs that would then spread to fucking _all _of them.

But it got like, kinda weird in a ‘maybe I should reflect on this’ way when he started getting pissed off at Cliff, or James, or the Anthrax guys, or any of the other guys they were around when they started paying attention to Kirk. And it was ridiculous, because, you know, Cliff and Kirk became pretty fast friends, and Scott had a lot in common with them, too, and so—

“Oh fuck, I’m jealous,” Lars said, to himself, finally, one day. This was not something he’d had to deal with with Dave. This was a completely new thing.

He was pretty glad he was alone when he said it, too, because after saying it he had to just smack his head against the bathroom mirror and wish that he wasn’t thinking this, because when it came to what he wanted from his new guitarist, he wasn’t expecting one of those things to be ‘dick.’

Or ‘for him to drive a wedge in between Lars and every other person who paid Kirk any attention at all including their incredibly chill and cool bass player god damn it this was all in Lars’s head but it was still annoying.’

“Fuck,” Lars muttered. “Fuck.”

That was when he stopped being alone—that was when Cliff walked in. “Fuck what,” Cliff said.

“Just fuck.”

“Okay,” Cliff said. He pissed and then nudged Lars with his elbow on the way out. “’zit about Kirk?”  
“What? Why do you know—why do you think—get the fuck back here!”

But Cliff didn’t, he just left.

“Fuck,” Lars said, a little louder. There was probably only one way to get over this, and that was to go and deal with Kirk. He didn’t think that he’d have to actually fuck Kirk to get over it, and he didn’t exactly know what he was going for, only that he had to do _something_, that he was getting a restless kind of energy in the base of his spine that there was something to fix or do and he had to go and deal with that as fast as he possibly could. He hoped that Kirk wasn’t too out-of-it when he found him. Kirk had brought an acid habit from Exodus but Cliff was into weed and so if Lars was lucky Kirk wouldn’t be tripping too bad.

Though maybe it would be better if he was, if he was he might not remember what was about to happen.

So he just followed to smell of weed to a room that held Cliff, Kirk, and Scott. Cliff looked at Kirk. “I told you he wanted to talk to you,” he said. “You owe me ten bucks.”

“I don’t have ten bucks,” Kirk said. He was wearing his glasses. Lars wondered what time it was. They kind of lost track after a while.

“I’ll spot you if you let me borrow the comics you spent your last ten bucks on,” Scott said.

“Deal,” Kirk said. Lars watched the transaction, a little baffled, and then, once Cliff had been paid and Scott was clutching his new reading material in his hands, Cliff hoisted himself to his feet, grabbed Scott’s collar, and pulled him out. They shut the door behind them.

“How did Cliff know—”

Kirk shrugged. And see, it was pretty dumb, because even watching that, even seeing the three of them just sprawled out together, _hanging out_, that was making him jealous. Pissed-off-jealous. Even though they were gone now and had literally just been hanging out, smoking weed, and reading comics, like any _normal group of dudes would. _

“Fuck,” he muttered again.

“Huh?”

Instead of saying anything else, Lars went and sat down beside Kirk. They were on a mattress on the floor with a mess of blankets and sheets. Kirk was tangled up in a way that made Lars think he just got up to see Cliff and Scott in there and that they’d just started hanging out because what else are you going to do, you know. Lars leaned against the wall.

“What do you—why do you want to talk to me?” Kirk asked.

“I don’t,” Lars said. Kirk frowned, and then Lars leaned over and kissed him. Kirk jerked, a little, and by a little he meant kind of a lot, his head smacked against the wall. “What? I’m not that bad of a kisser.”

“Why-did-you-do-that.”

“Because I wanted to.”

“_What_.”

“Do you—are you not into it?”

“I mean—I mean—” Kirk looked completely lost, his mouth never quite closing all the way. “I mean, I wasn’t—_expecting _this from you—”

“Do you hate it?”

“I mean—”

Lars took it as an invitation to kiss him again. Kirk didn’t jump this time, he just leaned into it, and he tasted like morning and weed, which wasn’t like, the greatest, but Lars put one hand right under Kirk’s jaw and the other one on his hip and that was pretty much the greatest, and then he leaned back, broke it, and looked at him.

“Fuck,” he said.

That hadn’t made him get over Kirk at _all_.

He was really going to have to rethink how he approached shit like this, because all he wanted to do was kiss him again. Kirk was still looking at him like he had no clue what the fuck was going on or why the fuck it was going on or how the fuck it was going on, and that baffled expression was literally the best thing that Lars had ever seen in his life, and he was—

He was pretty much fucked.


End file.
